


Cupid's Arrow

by gamerfic



Category: Die sechs Schwäne | The Six Swans, Princess Series - Jim C. Hines
Genre: Adventure, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Frottage, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misses Clause Challenge, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/pseuds/gamerfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While the princesses try to track down a missing noblewoman, a close encounter with fairy magic forces Talia and Snow to confront their deeply buried feelings for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cupid's Arrow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calloftherunningtide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calloftherunningtide/gifts).



> Happy first Yuletide as a participant, calloftherunningtide! I love Talia/Snow too, and I hope you enjoy this story. I've tried to balance your excellent prompt for Talia/Snow "dub-con of the magic-made-them-act-on-existing-but-willfully-buried-feelings variety" with your stated dislikes, and I hope I've succeeded. So while this story contains some passing and non-explicit references to past, offscreen noncon, I have tried to make Talia and Snow themselves as consenting as possible under the circumstances of their magically lowered inhibitions.

"May I have this dance?"

Talia refused to let Snow's voice startle her. She pushed herself away from the railing of the balcony upon which she had been leaning and turned smoothly toward her friend with a tight, pinched smile on her lips. Snow's hair was swept up in elaborate curls, and she wore an elegant blue dress with a plunging neckline that showed off both her mirrored choker and her cleavage. Talia's own silk shirt and linen trousers, though finely tailored, seemed crude and plain next to such finery. Snow held one hand extended in front of her in a gesture of invitation, and Talia forced herself to look at Snow's eyes rather than her chest. "Need I remind you that we're supposed to be keeping a low profile?"

Snow rolled her eyes and pointed down at the ballroom below. Dozens of couples spun and twirled across the parquet dance floor to the music of a string ensemble. "Please. With the number of guests here, we'd be just another dancing couple."

"Did you forget about my so-called fairy blessings? Trust me, they'll notice."

"You're no fun," Snow huffed. She settled in beside Talia to watch the dancers in shared, comfortable silence. They really were supposed to be undercover here in the Duchy of Sagen, and Talia really was concerned about drawing attention to herself, but that wasn't the only reason she had declined Snow's offer. She knew that for Snow, the dance would be just another whimsical adventure, an enjoyable way to pass the time with a friend while she waited for something interesting to happen. The trouble was that Talia couldn't see it in that way.

Talia's sharp eyes picked Danielle and Armand out of the crowd below. Armand's hand rested firmly on Danielle's waist, holding her close to him as they laughed at some private joke. Their total trust and confidence in each other was plainly evident in the graceful way that they moved together through the complex steps of the dance. Talia fought back the jealousy that bubbled up inside of her. Danielle and Armand rarely got to spend time alone together, away from Jakob and the demands of parenthood. She did not want to begrudge them the chance to steal a few romantic moments, even in these unusual circumstances.

Queen Bea had dispatched Talia, Danielle, and Snow to Sagen on the trail of a rumor regarding Lady Therese, the only daughter of Duke Conrad of Leadhall. Since Conrad's remarriage nearly a decade ago, little had been seen or heard of any of his seven children. There was no proof of foul play despite widespread suspicion toward the children's new stepmother, so it had never been appropriate for the monarchy of Lorindar to intervene. But now, one of the queen's spies had informed her that Therese had recently been spotted in Sagen as the wife of its ruler, Duke Fabian. The marriage came as a shock to everyone. In search of answers, Queen Bea had decided to take advantage of the monarchs' standing invitation to Sagen's renowned midsummer festival, sending Danielle and Armand as representatives of the crown in her place. She had also asked Talia and Snow to accompany them, posing as ladies in waiting. The princesses' shared task was to investigate whatever was going on in the duchy, and above all to try to catch a glimpse of the elusive Therese and to find out what had become of her.

Snow's elbow jabbed Talia in the ribs and pulled her out of her thoughts. "Talia. I see the Duke."

"I see him too," said Talia. Duke Fabian, a tall dark-haired man clad in red velvet, was crossing the dance floor. He acknowledged the revelers with the bare minimum of politeness required as he hastily wove his way through the crowd, heading for the large glass doors that led out onto the expansive grounds of his palace. "He looks like he's in a hurry."

"Doesn't look like Therese is with him, though," said Snow.

"We haven't seen her yet on this visit, have we? You know, Duke Fabian might not actually be married at all. Danielle said he hasn't mentioned a wife. Maybe the informant was wrong."

"I doubt it. But no matter what, he's up to something. The host of a party would never leave in this much of a rush unless he had something really important to do. We need to follow him."

"I agree."

In unison, Talia and Snow stepped away from the railing and descended the dramatic marble staircase that led down into the ballroom. Talia shrunk back against a wall, making herself small and unobtrusive, as Snow crept out onto the dance floor to tap Danielle on the shoulder. Even from a distance and with the musicians performing a loud and enthusiastic minuet, Talia could overhear what Snow was saying: "Sorry to cut in, Danielle, but you're needed in the palace gardens." Danielle grasped her meaning immediately and broke away from Armand with a lingering kiss and a rueful squeeze of his hand. Armand gave her an accepting smile in return. Talia knew that Danielle couldn't have told him very much about the princesses' secretive activities in service of the Queen, but apparently he knew better than to stand in her way.

The three princesses scattered, departing the ballroom by different exits and at slightly different times so as not to arouse suspicion. A few minutes later they reunited beneath a gnarled, bent pine tree, out of earshot of anyone at the party. Snow had stashed a bundle containing Danielle's glass sword and Talia's zaraq whip beneath a convenient rose bush on her way into the palace, and now she retrieved it and gave the weapons to the others. Talia tossed the whip casually from hand to hand as she looked around, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark. The Duchy of Sagen was renowned for the natural beauty of its forests, and its duke's isolated palace served as a showcase for the land's wild lushness. The palace grounds were more wilderness than garden, choked with tall and ancient trees and reportedly stocked with all sorts of exotic game animals that the nobles of Sagen hunted for sport. Talia hoped that the princesses could avoid any encounters with such strange creatures tonight.

"All right, let's find Duke Fabian," said Snow. She reached up to her choker and detached one of it mirrors. The little glass oval vibrated in the palm of her hand, eager to take flight. Her mouth moved soundlessly until she found a fitting rhyme to stabilize her spell. "Mirror, mirror, wise and knowing. Show us where the Duke is going." The mirror shot upwards and flew off into the night, glowing with a faint, steady yellow light that most people would have mistaken for a firefly. Talia gave chase, and Snow and Danielle followed.

The woods around the palace were so thick and lush that they would have been difficult to navigate even in the daylight for visitors unfamiliar with their terrain. In the late evening, with only a sliver of moon partly shrouded by wispy clouds in the sky overhead, they were nearly impenetrable. Only the fairy blessings that sharpened Talia's vision allowed the princesses to keep track of Snow's tiny flying mirror, which became nearly invisible as it flitted between trees and through the undergrowth. Talia trusted her instincts as she wove through the forest, dodging under low-hanging tree limbs and leaping over fallen logs. The others were not so agile, and Talia heard Snow bite back at least one inventive curse when a branch hit her in the face.

Soon it became obvious where the mirror was leading them. Through the trees they could see the flickering orange light of torches and hear a low rumble of muted conversation. Talia slowed, causing both Snow and Danielle to collide with her. "A little warning next time?" grumbled Snow as her soft curves pressed up against Talia's back.

Talia did her best to ignore all of it. "Keep your voices down. Something's happening up ahead."

The princesses crept toward the faint torchlight until they reached the edge of a small clearing. They crouched behind a clump of bushes and peered between the leaves. Immediately they noticed Duke Fabian, holding a lit torch as an unfamiliar old woman whispered urgently to him. Both of them were staring at something far stranger and more disturbing: Lady Therese of Leadhall, bound to a stake with an enormous pile of dry firewood stacked up around her feet.

Talia began to stand up, her hand on the zaraq, as soon as the sight of Therese registered in her mind. Snow pulled her back down to the ground. "Talia, wait! This isn't necessarily what it looks like. We need to know more."

"What more is there to know?" Talia muttered, but the other princesses both hushed her. Annoyed at being thwarted, she strained to hear what the duke and the old woman were saying, knowing that to the others it would only sound like indistinct murmuring. She watched their lips as they spoke and repeated their words back to Snow and Danielle.

"You must not delay this any longer, Your Grace," the old woman was saying. "She has killed three of your children now. Think of how weak you would appear to your subjects if they were ever to learn the truth of what she has done."

Fabian sounded uncertain. "There has never been unmistakable evidence of that, Lady Rosamund. If she would only speak to defend herself…"

"But she hasn't, and she won't. Your Grace, please. Don't let her take advantage of you like this. Her crimes against you must not go unpunished."

Before Fabian could respond, the harsh call of a swan echoed in the night air. It was joined by another, and then another, until the clearing was filled with the noise of feathered wings in motion and six white swans descended into it. Fabian and the old woman - Rosamund - both looked upwards in alarm, but Therese's face held something different. Her eyes welled up with tears of relief as a faint but distinctly hopeful smile began to appear on her lips.

In a heartbeat the flock of swans set itself upon Fabian, Rosamund, and Therese, trumpeting and pecking and beating their wings. It was impossible to see exactly what was happening amidst the sudden chaos, but Talia could now hear Fabian and Rosamund howling in pain beneath the din. As two of the swans approached the unlit pyre, Danielle observed, "They aren't attacking Therese."

Indeed, the swans seemed unusually calm and cautious around Therese. When they pecked at her, their beaks touched only the ropes that bound her, cleverly undoing the knots that held her. Therese leaped away from the stake as if in revulsion and darted into the woods with the two swans flanking her. From the other side of the clearing there was a soundless explosion of magic that made Talia's skin crawl. The four swans attacking Fabian and Rosamund were flung backwards onto the ground by the force of the blast. Clouds of magical green smoke billowed out from Rosamund's hands, fouling the air and obscuring the princesses' view. When the haze dissipated, Rosamund had already fled. Talia could barely make her out as she ran deeper into the forest with the speed and agility of a much younger woman. The swans gave chase. Fabian, however, charged after Therese, calling her name.

Talia paused, uncertain of whether to pursue Rosamund and the swans, or Fabian and Therese. Snow, however, showed no such hesitation. The mirror from her choker that had led the princesses to the clearing was still hovering at arm's length in front of her. She seized it in one fist and breathed new words of enchantment over it: "Mirror, mirror, so true and good. Track Lady Rosamund through the wood!" The mirror shot off after Rosamund, and Snow picked up her skirts and followed.

"Snow!" shouted Talia, but Snow didn't stop. Talia turned to Danielle. "We need to go with her."

Danielle shook her head. "I want to figure out why these swans are acting so strangely. And what Therese has to do with them."

Talia's course of action remained obvious. "Then follow her. I'm going after Snow. We'll meet up somewhere else later." She took off after Snow before Danielle had the chance to object.

Snow's path through the dark woods was easy to follow. Even without the light of the mirror that winked in front of her as she ran, Talia could have heard her coming from a mile away. Snow plowed through the underbrush with all the subtlety of an avalanche. _So much for stealth,_ thought Talia. In her haste, Snow snapped twigs, loudly crushed dry leaves, and even disturbed a hive of angry, stinging insects that buzzed around her in a furious swarm. Talia winced as one of them stung her in the neck, and she swatted it away. Judging by the yelps of pain that Snow let out, she had not been able to avoid the hive either.

Despite Snow's substantial head start, Talia soon caught up to her. Snow glanced backwards and grinned. "Well, hello there," she said teasingly. "Do you come here often? Because I have to say, the ambience is-"

Snow's words cut off with a strangled cry and she disappeared from sight. "Snow!" shouted Talia as she rushed ahead. Her shins painfully bumped against something rough and hard in the dark. She lost her balance and toppled forward - not to the ground, but down into a deep dark hole that seemed to go on forever.

When Talia finally reached the bottom of the hole, only her fairy-enhanced reflexes allowed her to remain upright. She landed in a crouch, and her feet sank almost to the ankles in soft, wet soil. She toppled forward and landed on top of a warm, yielding body. "Ouch," groaned Snow.

"Snow? Is that you? Are you hurt?"

"I don't think so." Another mirror on Snow's choker began to glow, illuminating the confines of the pit. Talia looked around at the circle of brick walls that surrounded them, then up at the crescent moon high above, and saw that they had fallen into a dry well. Its crumbled rim was overgrown with ivy and moss and nearly invisible in the dark, an obstacle that neither one of them had been able to avoid. The old well must have been shallow to begin with, and it had been filled in over the years until it was thirty feet deep at best. Even so, it was too wide across to brace against the walls and climb out. _This will be a challenge,_ thought Talia.

"Good. I need you to help me figure out how to get out of here." Talia turned back to Snow, making sure she wasn't downplaying her injuries to keep Talia from worrying, and was surprised by what she saw. Snow's pale face was flushed, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her brow and her rosy cheeks. Her chest heaved with each rapid, ragged breath she took. Just beneath her collarbone were a number of swollen, raised red welts. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Some bug stung me while I was running through the woods. I'll be fine." Snow gave a single curt nod and a small stoic smile. Her hair was coming loose from its intricate updo, and she brushed its dark silver-threaded strands out of her slightly glassy eyes. She was shivering despite the warmth of the summer night. Talia was seized by a sudden urge to wrap Snow up in her arms and hold her until her shaking subsided. _No. Bad idea. Why would I think that?_ Uncontrollably, Talia's gaze followed a single drop of sweat as it trickled down Snow's neck and in between her breasts to disappear somewhere beneath her bodice. "Looks like it got you, too."

Snow was pointing at the side of Talia's neck. Talia touched the spot and felt a hot raised bump there, evidence of the sting from a few minutes earlier. Her fingers brushed against something dry and spindly caught beneath the collar of her shirt, and she shook the fabric out until whatever was trapped there fell into her outstretched palm. It was the partially crushed carcass of a flying beetle about the length of her thumb - not including the long, cruel stinger that extended out from its abdomen. Its exoskeleton was dull black with a bright red marking in the shape of a heart on its thorax. Snow leaned closer to Talia to get a better view of the insect. "Oh, no."

"What is this thing?" asked Talia.

"I've never seen one outside a bestiary before. I guess that if the Duchy of Sagen collects interesting animals that would extend to magical creatures too, right?"

"Magic bugs?" Talia wasn't sure if the chill that stole across her skin was from the insect's sting, or just from the thought of having a harmful spell cast upon her again. "Are they dangerous?"

"It won't kill you, if that's what you're afraid of. At least I don't think it will. Bestiaries aren't always reliable. You know as well as I do that when people write things down in a book based on wild stories and speculation, the truth doesn't always make it in." Snow was babbling now, in the way she only did when she was afraid of something. That worried Talia more than anything.

"Snow, if you know something about this, you need to tell me so we can figure out what to do about it. Together."

Snow drew in a deep and shaky breath and said, "It's called a cupid's arrow beetle." She spoke briskly and flatly, staring at a spot on the wall to the left of Talia's head. "It's sort of a crossbreed between a wasp and a type of fairy insect."

"Delightful."

"Most people would agree, which is part of why they're so rare. Anyway, the venom in their stingers acts like a drug. It messes with your bodily humors, lowers your inhibitions. Kind of like a cross between getting a fever and drinking too much wine. That means the main effect of the sting is heightened, um, desire. I mean the sexual kind. Directed at whoever happens to be near you when you get stung. Don't worry too much. It wears off eventually."

There was a long pause, during which Talia tried not to think about Snow's upturned face inches from her own, or the fact that she had effectively been sitting in Snow's lap ever since she fell to the bottom of the well. "You have to be joking," she said.

"No. All of the bestiaries were excruciatingly clear about that part of the story."

Talia pressed her back flat against the rough brick of the well's interior, all too aware of how close she still sat to Snow. She tried to tell herself that Snow was wrong, that she wasn't also feeling feverish and slightly dazed, that the growing heat between her legs was just an odd coincidence. "We have to get out of here right now, Snow."

"I agree."

"Do you know a spell to levitate us or something?" Talia could hardly believe that she was suggesting that Snow use more magic to fix a mess that magic had gotten them into in the first place, but at the moment all she could think of was getting out of the well and away from Snow before either of them did something they should not.

"Let me see what I can do." Snow closed her eyes, and her hand fluttered up to touch the choker that encircled her throat. Talia watched Snow's fingers as they tapped the silver chain and imagined what it might feel like to stroke that tender pale skin, to press a kiss into the place where Snow's shoulder met her neck. Deep lines of concentration carved themselves into Snow's brow. "Mirror, mirror, silvery and - ugh, no. Mirror, mirror, full of...full of... _damn it!_ " Snow's eyes snapped open and she ripped her hand away. "It's no use. The venom is fogging my brain. I can't focus long enough to cast anything."

"It's all right, Snow. I'm not giving up yet." Fortunately, Talia had kept her grip on the zaraq whip as she fell into the well. She pulled one arm free from the tangle of their limbs and groped around until she found the weapon, distantly horrified all the while by how her body responded as she unavoidably and inadvertently rubbed against Snow, how easy and enjoyable it would be to just keep going. Instead, she stood up, planted her feet as firmly as she could on the uneven ground, and cast the lash of the whip up at the rim of the well, trying to wrap it around an overhanging branch or anything else that might allow them to climb out.

More than a dozen unsuccessful attempts later, Snow softly said, "Talia, enough." Talia dropped the whip and sank back down in defeat. Her arm was sore from the unnatural, repetitive motion than the confines of the well had forced her to use, but she could not be certain that her heavy breathing was only due to exertion. "We'll have to wait for Danielle. She'll come looking for us and get us out of here eventually."

"As long as she doesn't get into trouble without us. You know we can't count on that. Is there any way to make this stop?" Talia hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt. The thought of Danielle finding her like this was intolerable - almost as intolerable as the thought of losing control around Snow.

"There is, but you're probably not going to like it."

"I won't know until I hear it."

"Fine." Snow took another deep breath. "According to every bestiary I've seen, the venom of the cupid's arrow beetle bonds with and is neutralized by the humors that are released when you, well, when you climax. You know. They don't call it the cupid's arrow beetle for nothing."

"Are you saying that if we…"

"Yes."

"I won't do that to you, Snow."

"Not even if I asked you to?" Snow's voice was quiet, but the seriousness of her words was unmistakable. Talia looked away from her, staying silent lest she reveal too much of her real feelings toward Snow's proposition. "We're friends, aren't we? Friends help each other when things get difficult. Even if it's awkward, or strange. I know you'll help me. I trust you."

"What if you regret it later?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I'll worry about that tomorrow. Today, I'm more worried about keeping everyone safe." Snow reached out and took Talia's hand. Her skin was slick with sweat and her fingers were trembling. "We have to get out of here - and not only to help Danielle, either. Lady Therese might be in terrible danger. We can't just abandon her. And neither one of us is in any condition to help her right now."

But Talia still said nothing.

"Talia, please." Snow's tone had taken on an edge of pleading desperation. "I can't do this without you. You're the only one who can help me." She let go of Talia's hand and traced the line of Talia's jaw idly and unthinkingly. Talia felt her hard-fought self-control beginning to evaporate as surely as the water from the well had done so long ago. "Even if you won't do it for any of the rest of them, do it for me." Her voice broke. "Don't make me beg."

Talia turned her head so that her lips rested in the center of Snow's palm. It wasn't a kiss, not really. "All right," she whispered. "Do what you need to do. I'm here."

Snow nodded, the relief in her face mingling with her obvious nervousness. "Thank you," she said, a bit awkwardly. "I'm just going to try to..." She rearranged her legs beneath her until she was straddling one of Talia's thighs with the skirt of her dress rucked up around her waist. "There." Talia felt pressure and warmth against her leg and closed her eyes as Snow began to move rhythmically against her, and tried to imagine that she was somewhere else.

But Talia could not. Snow's movements, tentative at first, grew in urgency. Talia put her hands on Snow's waist - _just so she doesn't lose her balance,_ she told herself - and cracked her eyes open as her curiosity got the better of her. Snow's own eyes were heavy-lidded, focused on nothing, as she let out small moans and gasps. The tempo of her motions picked up, then began to stutter, and she let out a faint cry that was half a sob and slumped limply against Talia's chest.

"It's not enough," Snow mumbled, "not enough." Talia was not sure what astonished her more: that the steady downward stroke of Snow's hips had started up again with scarcely a pause, or that she found herself pressing against Snow in turn and matching her rhythm. Snow sat up and Talia leaned forward to bury her face in the curve of Snow's neck, just as she had imagined doing. Each motion stoked a hidden fire in her that she had hidden and denied for as long as she could remember. She lifted her head as she approached the point of no return, saw the look of determination on Snow's face and the way her bottom lip was caught between her teeth, and felt the warmth of her climax exploding through her. She did not make a sound.

Snow's hips continued to jerk against Talia's thigh, driving her forward toward a second abrupt, gasping peak. When it was over and Snow was resting once again in Talia's arms, Talia marveled at how much clearer-headed and less feverish she felt already. But Snow was not so fortunate. She only had a few moments' peace before she was moaning and squirming against Talia again, her pulse fluttering in her neck like a trapped hummingbird. _Of course,_ thought Talia. _She was stung multiple times, but the beetles only got me once._ In an instant she made up her mind not to let her friend's discomfort go on for any longer. "May I?" she asked as she slid a hand up Snow's calf and past her knee, scarcely believing what she was saying or doing.

"Yes, please, Talia, I need you!" Before she could lose her nerve, Talia let her hand slip beneath Snow's skirts, pushing aside her silky smallclothes, stroking clumsily yet diligently between Snow's legs. Snow rested her forehead on Talia's shoulder and moved in time with Talia's hand until finally she cried out once more and was still, satisfied at last. Talia flattened herself against the wall, averting her eyes from Snow as she rearranged her skirts and they both waited for their ragged breathing to even out again.

What had she done?

Talia's jumbled, self-loathing thoughts were interrupted by the faint sound of Danielle calling, "Talia! Snow! Are you down there?" She looked up and saw both Danielle and a swan peering over the rim of the well, though the swan's head quickly vanished from view. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What happened?"

"What does it look like?" said Snow with a grin. She acted as if she had completely forgotten about the things that she and Talia had just done. "I tripped and got stuck in this well, and Talia was kind enough to accompany me."

"Is either of you hurt?" asked Danielle with a worried frown.

"Bumps and bruises, nothing more," said Snow. "Most of the damage was done to our pride."

"That's good." There was a faint cooing sound from up above and Danielle turned away. Moments later she was back, holding something in her hands. "The swan brought me a rope."

"That's nice, I suppose," said Talia.

"He wants to help," said Danielle. "He started following me around while I was looking for Therese. When I asked him why he was doing it, he led me to you. He just keeps saying 'we need to find them, it's important.' I don't understand anything more than that, though. He's young, and not explaining himself very well."

"Then let's get out of here and go where he says we should go," said Snow with a teasing smirk. "Who are we to argue with a swan, after all?"

Danielle tied one end of the rope around a nearby tree and tossed the other end into the well. Talia let Snow climb up first and watched to make sure she didn't slip. The only lingering signs of illness that Snow displayed were a faint pallor and a mild shakiness in her limbs. Even the marks that the insects' stingers had left on her bare skin had faded into barely visible pink bumps. Her face was a calm mask, betraying nothing that had happened inside the well. But Talia knew she was less practiced at concealing her emotions, because when she reached the top, Danielle studied her closely and said, "Is something wrong, Talia?"

Talia shook her head and threw her legs over the side of the well. "I just want to figure this out."

"Then follow that swan," said Danielle. The bird was waddling away into the woods, craning his long neck around as if checking whether the princesses had noticed.

"My mirror seems to think he's on to something, too," said Snow. Her tracking spell had persisted throughout everything, and the mirror from her choker was floating away after the swan. "Looks like everyone is heading to the same place in the end."

"That settles it," said Danielle, hiking up her skirt. "Let's go."

The princesses jogged through the forest as fast as they could manage. Before long Talia heard the sound of someone approaching from their left, moving through the trees without any concern for stealth. To Talia's surprise, Therese burst out of the darkness and darted across their path, not stopping or slowing to acknowledge the princesses or the swan. Under one arm she held a bulky, canvas-wrapped bundle. The swan trumpeted in alarm and abruptly took flight after her. "What was that all about?" Snow wondered aloud.

By way of response, a scream split the air. "I think that was Fabian," said Talia.

The princesses all knew exactly what to do next. As quickly as they dared, they ran in the direction of the scream until they came upon a tiny, run-down cottage. Rosamund stood just outside the door, brandishing a wand at a terrified Fabian and still holding her torch in her other hand. Both of them were covered in welts and bruises where the swans had pecked and bitten them earlier, but Fabian was clearly worse off. Thick vines had sprung out of the ground at his feet and had bound him against the trunk of a tree. "Please let me go," he was saying.

"I can't trust you," said Rosamund matter-of-factly. "You had your chance to end this, and you were so afraid that you ruined it. I should have handled it myself from the beginning. Now I have to make sure that you never get in my way again."

"Stop where you are." Talia was emerging from the darkness to confront Rosamund before she could second-guess her own actions. She felt Snow and Danielle falling into place behind her, ready to back her up through whatever came next. "We saw what you tried to do to Lady Therese. I don't know who you are, but civilized people don't burn anyone at the stake. At minimum, you've got some explaining to do."

"You have no idea what you're interfering with," Rosamund sneered.

Then the door to the cottage creaked open. Two dark-haired children peered out through the crack. "Mama, what's happening?" said the older of the two in a small, sleepy voice. _They look like Fabian,_ Talia realized with a start.

The resemblance was not lost on Fabian either. An expression of astonished disbelief spread across his face. "It cannot be," he said quietly, then raised his voice. "Therese! THERESE!" A new, thick tendril sprouted out of the vine that held his arms and wrapped around his mouth to gag him.

Danielle raised her sword into a guard position and assumed the most queenly posture that Talia had ever seen her achieve. "Do you know who I am?" she said to Rosamund, but did not wait for her to answer. "I'm Princess Danielle Whiteshore of Lorindar. I command you to drop your wand and explain yourself."

"I think not," said Rosamund. She pointed her wand at the princesses and shouted an incantation. More vines began to burst up from the rich soil of the forest floor at an impossible rate, beginning to root the princesses to the ground. Talia drew her knives and hacked at the vines, while Danielle also cut them apart with each wide swing of her glass sword. Yet the vines continued to grow so quickly that Talia knew they stood no chance of keeping up.

Snow, as usual, saw the bigger picture. She drew one of the small metal snowflakes that Talia had given her and lobbed it at Rosamund, who had momentarily turned her attention toward the children peeking out from behind the cottage door. The sharp, spinning snowflake hit the wand and knocked it out of Rosamund's grip. It tumbled away into the pitch-dark underbrush. Yet the vines continued growing, swiftly overtaking Danielle and Talia's best efforts until all three of the princesses were bound head to foot. "That didn't work out quite the way I planned," said Snow.

But before Rosamund could locate her wand or turn her attention back to the princesses, the cries of swans echoed down from above once more. All six of the swans that Talia had seen earlier descended and surrounded Rosamund, preventing her from escaping. Then there was another faint rustle from the woods nearby, and Therese appeared. The swans looked toward her and cried out in excitement as she knelt down and began to untie the bundle that she carried. Unfortunately, that moment of distraction was all that Rosamund needed.

Rosamund clapped her hands together, and another wave of pure magical force rippled out from her. This one was less powerful than the one she had unleashed before, and not accompanied by concealing smoke, but Talia could tell by Snow's sharp, frightened intake of breath that if Rosamund were able to do even that much without a wand, it meant she was a powerful witch indeed. The swans tottered backwards, and Rosamund shoved past them to stand beside the cottage. She met Therese's eyes with a steely glare and held her torch inches away from the dry, thatched roof. "Step away from that parcel, Therese," she said, "or your children will burn."

"Don't do this," Danielle said in a shaky voice. The younger of the two children at the door could not have been much older than Jakob, and Talia knew that she had to be thinking of him.

"Shut up," said Rosamund, moving the torch closer to the roof. From inside the cottage came the piercing, high-pitched wail of an infant - _a third innocent, now threatened by this mad witch's schemes._ Talia felt sick to her stomach.

The swans had picked themselves up now, and one of them drew back as if to lunge at Rosamund's blind side. Therese held up her palm, signaling for the swan to hold back but still not speaking. The standoff between Rosamund and Therese showed no sign of ending soon - and the longer it went on, the more likely it became that something would go wrong and the children would become collateral damage.

Talia tried to saw through the vines that bound her with the knife she was still holding, but they had restrained her wrist at an awkward angle that didn't allow for the proper leverage. "Danielle, can you cut us loose?" she said under her breath.

"I'm trying," Danielle said through gritted teeth. "These vines are really thick." Talia craned her neck and saw Danielle's glass sword easily slicing through her bonds as she wiggled the blade back and forth. But Rosamund must have anticipated this, because the vines around Danielle were tighter and more numerous than they were anywhere else. "Snow?"

"Give me a minute," said Snow. "I'll think of something. But I'll only have time for one spell…" She trailed off, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips moving through the words of an inaudible incantation. Talia wondered what she was planning. If Rosamund were not dealt with quickly, she would undoubtedly set the roof alight at the first sign of trouble. Snow was a powerful sorceress, but Talia also knew she wasn't strong enough to cast a single spell to neutralize her, not when she could barely move or chant. _Snow, I hope you know what you're doing._

Soon Talia could tell that Snow's magic was reaching its peak. Therese and Rosamund and the swans had not moved from their silent stalemate. There was a jingle as the mirrors on Snow's choker realigned themselves to point toward the cottage and shot out a ray of icy energy that hit not Rosamund, but the torch she held, extinguishing its flame with a hiss and a puff of smoke.

Therese saw her chance, and took it. With a single swift, smooth motion she knelt down next to the package at her feet and tore away the last of the twine that held it closed. Inside was a pile of shirts sewn out of some sort of leafy plant matter - stinging nettles, judging by the way that Therese winced when she picked them up. The swans turned away from Rosamund, who was gaping at the smoking torch in astonishment, and swept down on Therese with powerful, synchronized beats of their wings. One by one, Therese threw the shirts over each swan. Their bodies shifted and twisted and grew, until in between Therese and Rosamund there stood not six swans, but six young men with fury and outrage burning in their faces.

One of the men turned back to Therese. The shirt of nettles that hung loosely upon his narrow shoulders was incomplete, missing a sleeve, and one of his arms had remained in the form of a swan's wing. "My sister," he said, "we all heard the threats that our stepmother made toward you and toward your children. Because of your strength, the curse she placed upon us has been lifted. Now you can speak again. What do you think should become of her?"

Another smile pulled at the corners of Therese's mouth. This one held joy and relief as the first one had - but more than that, it was vengeful. Therese's powers of speech may have been restored, but Rosamund plainly understood that Therese would not use them to stay her brothers' hands. Horror twisted Rosamund's features and she turned and ran into the woods, not bothering to stop to look for her wand. Feathers rustled as the young men shifted back into swans - apparently, the process was now under their control - and flew off in pursuit of Rosamund as Therese looked on with satisfaction. Danielle frowned doubtfully. "Should we be doing something about this?"

"What can we do?" said Talia. "We're tied up, remember?"

"Even if we weren't," added Snow, "I think that Queen Bea would argue that getting in those swans' way would put the future heir to the throne of Lorindar in more danger than she would find acceptable." A scream in the distance punctuated her words.

The princesses knew that they could do nothing else until they were free, so Danielle persisted in slicing through the vines with her sword. Once she managed to get her arms loose, it was easy for her to extricate Snow and Talia. Therese paid them no mind; all of her attention was focused on the two children who had stood at the door of the cottage, and the baby she had retrieved from inside. The infant was only a few months old and snuggled gladly against her breast, but the two older children seemed not to recognize her and shied away from her touch with deep-seated distrust of strangers plainly written on their frightened faces. Talia's heart seized to see them together as she thought of the children she had left behind in Arathea, but she did not involve herself in their private reunion. At the moment, she had much greater concerns.

Fabian was still tied to the tree, his eyes wide and fearful. Talia strode over to him, raised her knife, and brusquely cut away the vine that gagged him. "Please don't hurt me," he said.

"No promises," said Talia.

"You'll have to excuse my friend," said Danielle, approaching Fabian with Snow just behind her. "As you can see, she prefers it when people get right to the point of things. So I'd suggest you tell her, and all of us, what's going on here."

"I don't know," Fabian groaned. "Rosamund was one of my trusted advisors. For years she has traveled Lorindar and returned to warn me of threats to the duchy of Sagen. She was the one who told me that Therese was killing our children, and convinced me that she had to be punished for it. But if that was a lie, and she was Therese's stepmother all along, and those swans were actually Therese's brothers?...I don't understand what's happening."

"There is nothing more to understand," said someone from behind them. Talia turned and saw Therese stalking toward Fabian with their baby in her arms. The other two boys stayed cowering beside the cottage's front door. Therese's voice was hoarse and creaky from disuse, but it grew in strength and volume as she talked. "You're right, _husband._ My stepmother was a liar who wanted to ensure that her own children would inherit the duchy of Leadhall. She cursed my brothers to remove them from the line of succession. It was pure luck that she didn't curse me too. For seven years I have not spoken. That was the price of the spell I learned that would dispel her foul magic. But now my brothers are safe at last, and I will not be silent any longer."

"But surely all is well now, my treasure?" said Fabian to Therese. "The curse has been defeated. And the children we thought lost have been returned to us."

"Lost?" said Therese in disbelief. "They were never lost. They were taken from me by Rosamund. Her vendetta against me was so profound that she insinuated herself into your inner circle. She poisoned your mind with her magic and convinced you that I had killed the children. You see now that it was all a lie, like everything else between us."

"But my love for you has always been true!" Fabian protested.

"Is this what you call love?" Therese's tone had gone icy and threatening in a way that made Talia's fingers tighten on the hilts of her knives. "I would call it something very different. When you first found me in these very woods, I tried everything I could think of to get you to leave me alone. When a woman climbs a tree to get away from you and throws down everything of value that she owns to try to make you go away, do you really think that means she wants to _marry_ you?"

Fabian could not meet Therese's steely stare. "I could not help myself. I disturbed a hive of insects as I hunted in these woods. They stung me. It was as if a spell came over me, and I - I had to possess you. I did not want to hurt you."

"But you did," Therese said softly.

A burst of all-consuming fury exploded inside Talia. She lunged at Fabian and held both of her knives against his throat. "Is this true?" she demanded.

Fabian gave a barely perceptible nod, understanding how foolish it would be for him to lie. "When I came to my senses and understood what I had done, my honor demanded that I set it right. I knew I had to marry you, Therese, to make up for the wrong I had done."

"How kind of you," Therese muttered, "to make an honest woman of a woman who would not even speak to you to say 'I do.'"

A sound like a growl escaped Talia's throat. She pressed the knives harder against Fabian's throat, enough to make him wince and draw beads of bright blood where the tip punctured the skin. "Talia," Snow said loudly. "I need you to stop."

Talia eased up on the blades and cast a puzzled, irritated glance back at Snow. "Why should I?"

"You know he's telling the truth about the insects," said Snow. "We saw them, too." She did not say what she and Talia were both thinking: _We did a lot more than that._

"That doesn't change what he did to her," said Talia.

"You're right," said Danielle. "It doesn't. But if you kill him now, it will almost certainly provoke a diplomatic incident between Sagen and the crown. He will answer for his crimes, but we need to do this right." She strode toward Fabian, still looking and acting every inch a queen. "You know who I am, Duke Fabian. And because you have confessed to many serious crimes against Lady Therese, you also know that it is my right and my duty to demand that you stand and answer for them. You will be taken to the palace to plead your case before the monarchs and their royal magistrates. And if you are very fortunate, they will take your remorse into account and show you the mercy of simply imprisoning you for a very long time." Danielle turned back to Therese. "Lady Therese, is this your will as well?"

"It is," said Therese coldly.

In the distance, Talia heard the shouts of soldiers and the approaching hoofbeats of horses, and knew that the castle guard of Sagen had finally chosen to get involved. She stepped away from Fabian and melted into the darkness of the forest. She would let Danielle handle the matter from here, even though she wasn't sure at all that she had done the right thing by letting Snow and Danielle convince her to let Fabian live and to answer for his wrongdoing. Snow seemed to sense Talia's inner turmoil, because she slipped into the shadows beside her and gave Talia's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. Talia sheathed her knife and covered Snow's hand with her own. With Snow beside her, watching Therese speak in subdued tones to the children she had almost lost forever and seeing renewed trust of her begin to kindle in their eyes, she could almost convince herself that this story might yet have a happy ending.

* * *

Several days later, Talia knocked on the door to Snow's room with a knot of bitter worry tightening in her belly. The two of them had spoken very little on the way back to the palace, and immediately after their return Snow had thrown herself into some magical research project or another that she didn't bother to explain. Now she was asking to see Talia again, and Talia had no idea why. Most of the possibilities that had immediately presented themselves to her imagination were vaguely terrifying to say the least.

Snow opened her door immediately and said, "Come in." As she closed it behind them, Talia looked around the room and saw that whatever research Snow had been performing must have been practically all-consuming. The bed was rumpled and unmade, dirty dishes lay everywhere, and the magic mirror was pulsing with barely contained energy intense enough to make Talia shudder involuntarily when she stood too near it.

"What do you want?" asked Talia, standing awkwardly across from Snow in the middle of the room. She tried to keep her tone light and friendly, but knew the words had come out sounding as grim and concerned as she actually felt.

"I know you prefer it when people are direct, so I'll try to do that," said Snow. "I can't stop thinking about what happened in Sagen. Not just about bringing Fabian and Rosamund to justice, but about you and me. I don't regret the fact that we, um, well, that we helped each other. In the, well, in the well." She giggled at her own confused speech, then became suddenly serious again. "But I realize that you might not feel the same. So since we got back, I've been working on a spell." She gestured to the rippling, glowing mirror. "I can make us both forget that any of it ever happened. But only if you want me to."

Talia looked from Snow to the mirror and back again, uncertain of what to think or feel. "I hurt you so badly that it's easier for you this way?" she finally said in a small voice.

"No!" Snow crossed the distance to Talia in a heartbeat. Her hand hovered near Talia's shoulder as if she were uncertain of whether to follow through with the touch. "I didn't do this for myself, Talia. I'm prepared to live with the consequences of everything that happened. I did this for you."

"And you think that I'm not prepared to live with them?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Snow said, sounding somewhat affronted. "If I really thought that, would I have asked you before I worked the spell?"

"I know you wouldn't do anything like that, Snow."

"Good." Snow's hand dropped to her side, and she sighed. "I want you to make this decision, Talia. I'll abide by whatever you choose. If I cast the spell on you, I'll cast it on myself too. It wouldn't be right otherwise. But if you don't want it, I won't use it either."

"So those are my choices? Subject myself to even more magic, or spend the rest of my life remembering how I violated you every time I look at you?"

"You didn't violate me," Snow said, quietly yet firmly. "I practically begged you, remember?"

"That doesn't matter. Being under the influence of magic doesn't change the fact that I could have chosen differently. Getting stung by the insects didn't excuse Fabian from what he did to Therese. So how am I any different from him? Or any different than Jihab?"

"So that's what you think of me, then? Because I couldn't resist the magic, I forced myself on you? You think I'm no better than those men were?"

"That's ridiculous, Snow. I don't blame you for anything that happened. I would never say such a terrible thing about you."

"Then for heaven's sake, Talia, why would you say it about yourself?"

Talia had no answer for that, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Snow kept talking. "Sure, maybe what happened in that well wasn't anybody's ideal way to spend that evening. But I don't think I would have done it differently, if I could have. I'm not angry with you. I forgive you, if you think there's something to forgive. Can't that be enough?"

"No." Talia met Snow's eyes as a new certainty began to burn within her, frightening but wholly undeniable. Snow was only becoming more confused the longer that they talked, and Talia knew that she owed her friend a real and honest explanation for why this dreadful circumstance was so difficult for her to accept. _If this goes horribly wrong,_ she thought grimly, _at least we have the forgetting spell to fall back on._ She spoke the next words all in a rush, before she could lose her nerve. "I didn't want this to happen the way it did because I love you, Snow. Even though I know you don't feel the same. I can't stand the thought of hurting you, of forcing you to do anything you don't want to do. I would rather have never been with you at all than to be with you like this."

Snow tipped her head to one side and studied Talia with a curious, thoughtful expression. "There's something I didn't tell you about cupid's arrow beetles," she said.

 _What does that have to do with anything?_ Talia thought with mild irritation that briefly overtook the nervousness that consumed her. "And what would that be?"

"The venom in their stingers doesn't work on just anyone. The right humors have to be present in the person they sting already, or it doesn't have anything to work with. Fabian must have been physically attracted to Therese at first sight, or else nothing would have happened when he got stung. You see, the venom can't create something out of nothing. It can only amplify what's already there." The volume of Snow's voice had diminished so much as she talked that she nearly whispered the last sentence.

"You can't possibly mean that…"

"I love you too, Talia." Snow was genuinely grinning in spite of everything.

"But I thought you weren't interested in-"

"In women? I didn't know I was either, until I met you. You learn something new every day. I just didn't know how to tell you until now." Snow's smile was broad and joyful now, and she shook her head in puzzlement. "Are you really that surprised?"

"What could you possibly see in me?" Talia managed to say.

"What _don't_ I see in you? You're strong, you're smart, you're beautiful - but more than that, you're kind. You care for me in a way that nobody else ever has. I stood no chance against your charms, really."

"I could say the same to you," Talia murmured, and she felt her own face blossom with a smile that was a mirror of Snow's own. She didn't know what more to say. Cautiously, gently, she gathered Snow up in her arms. "May I kiss you? Please?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Their lips met, and Talia did her best to lose herself in the kiss. It did not, could not erase everything that had gone before, nor did she know what the future might hold. She only knew that as they held each other, they were turning over a new page in a book that Talia thought had been lost forever, seeking out all of the tales that were yet to be told. _Not a happily ever after,_ Talia thought as Snow deepened their kiss and tightened their embrace. _It's a once upon a time._

**Author's Note:**

> [This is the version of "The Six Swans" that inspired the characters of Therese, her brothers, Rosamund, and Fabian.](http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/grimm049.html) My interpretation of this fairy tale also owes a debt of gratitude to [Mallory Ortberg's retelling.](http://the-toast.net/2015/09/22/the-six-swans/)
> 
> Finally, infinite thanks are due to my beta [Mendeia](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Mendeia), whose insights greatly improved this story and who supported me tremendously in the home stretch of writing it. I treasure your friendship, M.


End file.
